


Mighty Currents Upon the Day

by pukeandcry



Category: Disney RPF, Jonas Brothers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pukeandcry/pseuds/pukeandcry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nice thing about books, Kevin thinks, is that books can't talk. They can't yell at him or do stupid things or make fun of his shoes, and that is a lot more than can be said for any of his brothers. (Notting Hill AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mighty Currents Upon the Day

**Author's Note:**

> Notting Hill AU

The nice thing about books, Kevin thinks, is that books can't talk. They can't yell at him or do stupid things or make fun of his shoes, and that is a lot more than can be said for any of his brothers. He loves them, but when it comes down to it, he would much rather spend his time with his books. Which is convenient, because although ostensibly the three of them are co-owners of their bookshop, it's Kevin who spends most of the time behind the counter and arranging the stacks. Nick is always in the upstairs office doing loud, clacky things on the calculator and getting angrier and angrier as their profit margin continues to disappoint him. Joe spends most of the day in the back room doing things that would never occur to Kevin, like smoking pot through his snorkeling mask or clipping obituaries for people he's never met out of the paper.

So on that Thursday, it's just Kevin in the store, not counting Mrs. McCreedy, who is looking through the books on Ireland again. Nick had already been in to frown at the display Kevin had set up by the register before stomping up the narrow stairway in back. Kevin had made sandwiches for the both of them, plus brought a container of leftover chow mein for Joe, who has never really been a sandwich person. Joe hadn't shown up by 12:30, but Kevin brought the sandwich as well as an apple up to Nick, pushing aside a pile of receipts on Nick's huge desk to make room for them.

“Lunch,” he says, unnecessarily.

“Thanks,” Nick says, glancing from the food to Kevin, smiling with half his mouth.

“And fix that display,” he adds as Kevin leaves.

–

When Kevin gets back to the store, Mrs. McCreedy is gone, but there's a new person thumbing through a pile at the front window with his back to Kevin.

He fiddles with his sweater vest for a second before sitting down at the register, peeling open his sandwich. He accidentally gave Nick the one made with the last of the roast beef. He'd meant to save that one for himself, and now he was stuck with peanut butter.

“Let me know if I can help you with anything,” he calls to the man at the front of the store.

The man turns around to glance at him, and for a second Kevin's sandwich hangs stupidly in mid-air, partway to his mouth. He's younger than Kevin had thought, and his hair is impossibly swoopy. And his eyes are impossibly blue. Everything about him is impossibly good-looking, right down to his brown, expensive-looking boots, and Kevin immediately feels about three times more goofy and overgrown. And he kind of wants those boots.

“Kevin,” Kevin says. “I mean, is me. I'm Kevin. If you need something.” Somehow that came out just wrong enough to make him sound stupid but not charming. He stuffs half the sandwich in his mouth to keep himself from saying anything dumber.

“Thanks,” the man says, smiling at him, and if he noticed Kevin's fumbling, he's polite enough to pretend like he didn't. He turns back to the stacks for a while, ambling around and picking up titles lazily. Kevin finishes the sandwich, plus a handful of pretzels, and when there's no more food left, he starts to gnaw on his right thumbnail. Whoever the man is, he's so preposterously good-looking that it makes Kevin's lungs feel fluttery, and he's positive that if he says anything, there's a good chance it won't come out in English. But he has a vision of the man leaving without at least exchanging a few words with him, and the thought makes him lurch a little, so he carefully plans out his sentence before opening his mouth:

“Are you looking for information on anywhere in particular?” he asks, and that came out normally enough, he thinks, silently praising baby Jesus.

The man wanders over towards the counter. “Well, I'm mostly just killing time, but I was kind of hoping you'd have something about Greece. I'm going there for work in a few months, and I think it'd be a good idea if I could point to it on a map if asked, y'know?”

 _Greece_ , thinks Kevin, his brain spinning into overdrive. He knows about Greece. Athens and Mykonos and hydrofoils and the Parthenon. He tries to force his brain to organize that information into a coherent sentence, and starts to pick up a few titles in the meantime.

“These are good,” he finally gets out. “Greece is nice, or at least I hear, I've never been there, but, you know... lots of people have. And they seem to like it.”

“Well, that's good. I'd hate to be stuck in a universally despised country for three months.”

Kevin nods. “Me too. Not that I'm... going.”

“But on principle,” the man adds in agreement.

“What are you doing there? For work, I mean?” Kevin asks, trying to remember what he talks about with other people who don't seem like they weren't so much born as carved out of marble.

For some reason, the man quirks his lips in a funny little grin at this question, as if it took him off guard. “It's a movie thing,” he says.

“Oh. Are you like, a cameraman or something?”

The other man lets out a funny little laugh. “I'm an actor, actually.”

“Oh,” Kevin says. “That must be interesting. Probably hard to make a living, right? My brother Joe tried to act for a while. He slept through the only commercial he ever got a part in, though...” he trails off.

“It's not so bad,” the man replies, and Kevin imagines he must have said something stupid and not even realized it this time, because the other man still has that funny half-smile on his face, although it doesn't look antagonistic at all, just vaguely amused. “Hey, do you have the time?”

Kevin pushes up his cuff and glances at his watch, the nice one Nick had him pick out for his last birthday. “Twelve fifty-two. Wait, fifty-three, now.”

“Oh, shit, I've gotta run. Hey, can I stop by for these later? How late are you guys open?”

“Until seven tonight. Although I'll probably still be here after that, if you need to come later. I like to dust after we close.”

“Nah, I can be back before six. Thanks, man, I'll see you then. It was Kyle, right?”

“Kevin, actually,” Kevin corrects.

“Right, sorry.” The man flashes a grin at Kevin, and he's definitely, definitely not mad. “Kevin. So I'll see you later.”

“Later,” Kevin echoes as the man heads out the door. “What was your name?” he blurts out.

“I'm Zac,” says Zac, smiling again. _He smiles an awful lot_ , thinks Kevin, and he also doesn't want him to ever, ever stop.

–

Zac doesn't show up by six, though, and not by seven either. At 8:30, Kevin doesn't think there's anything left to dust or vacuum or polish, and he locks up and reluctantly heads upstairs to collect Nick.

“Did anyone stop by when I was at the Post Office and you were downstairs this afternoon?” Kevin asks Nick.

“A few people. A guy who wanted a book by Robert Ludlum. Like, a _novel_. I mean, it's pretty clear on our sign that we have travel books, right? Just travel books. You'd think people who are looking for novels would know how to read.”

“Uh huh. But no one who wanted any books on Greece? There was a guy in earlier who was supposed to come back for them.”

“No, didn't see him.” Kevin feels his heart do a little dance, disappointed that Zac hadn't shown up at all, but at least relieved that he didn't miss him while he was running errands for Nick.

“You know who else I also didn't see today? Our mysterious third brother,” Nick continues, and as they walk back to their apartment together, Nick speculates as to what Joe could have been doing instead of coming in to work. Kevin suspects that it's nothing as sinister or involved as Nick's theories, and when they flick on the lights in the living room at home, Joe is snoring on the couch with a captain's hat pulled over his eyes, confirming Kevin's suspicions.

He makes them all spaghetti for dinner, and tries not to think about Zac, or Greece.

–

Four days later, on a Monday, he's heading back to the store with coffee for the three of them, thinking it's probably a good idea to provide positive reinforcement on days like today when Joe shows up on time _and_ Nick doesn't pick a fight before 10 a.m. He loves his brothers, and he never forgets that per se, but he also doesn't have to forcefully remind himself of that as much when Joe's awake and Nick isn't doing miniature impressions of famous dictators in history.

He's so caught up in appreciating his brother's rare normalcy that he doesn't notice the other person rounding the corner until he runs into him bodily, spilling the three drinks he was carrying over both of them.

“Oh, man, I am so sorry,” he says, shaking off his hands and trying to fish out a handful of napkins from his jacket's pocket.

“Hey, no, it's fine,” the other person says. “At least it was iced.”

Kevin glances up from his crumpled napkins. “Zac!” he says, and his voice squeaks considerably more than he would have liked. “Kevin,” he says, before Zac can adopt a look of confusion and break his heart all the way. “From the book store you were in a couple days ago.”

“Right,” Zac says. “Greece! Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't stop by to get those, but my agent got me roped into this thing I had to do.” He grabs some of the napkins from Kevin and wipes off his own hands before attempting to mop some of the liquid off Kevin's sleeve.

“It's no problem. I set them aside if you still want them. I also found a few more books you might like, there's this one about the history of the Parthenon,” says Kevin. “If... if you want, you could stop by now, I was just on my way there. And you could get cleaned up there, too. If you want.”

“I think I'll take you up on that,” Zac agrees, much to Kevin's surprise. “I think I might start to attract bees if I walk around covered in latte all day.”

“Right. Bees. That would be bad.”

“It would,” Zac agrees, “especially considering I'm allergic as hell. Come on.” He puts his hand on the small of Kevin's back, and guides him in the direction of the shop. Kevin forces himself not to wheeze at the contact.

–

“So hey, you're famous!” Joe hollers to Zac.

“Oh, Jesus,” Kevin whispers to himself. They're back at the store, in the upstairs office. Zac is in the tiny bathroom off of it, rinsing out his coffee-stained t-shirt in the sink.

“Uh, I guess so, man,” Zac calls back. Kevin and Nick are at either sides of the desk, and Joe is bouncing a superball against the wall.

“You were in that movie about that astronaut!” Joe shouts again.

“What movie about an astronaut?” Kevin asks Nick in a whisper.

“We saw it, remember?”

“I don't think so,” Kevin says, not adding that he _probably_ would have remembered Zac's face, and his lips and his hair and his smile and a lot of other things.

“Maybe it was just me and Joe, then.”

“It wasn't very good!” Joe calls back.

“Joe, stop!” Kevin hisses, feeling his face flare up beet red, but Zac just laughs easily.

“You're telling me, man. But bad movies tend to pay the most, in my experience.”

“How much did you make for _that_?” Joe asks, and if Kevin gets any more humiliated he's liable to melt into the floor.

“Way more than I deserved,” Zac says, walking back into the room, and oh, god, he's not wearing a shirt. Kevin thinks his legs might have turned into rubber and he shifts in his seat automatically. “I think that shirt might be ruined.”

“I'm sorry,” Kevin repeats for probably the fiftieth time. “I have some shirts here, you can borrow one.” He looks at the crumpled white v-neck in Zac's hands that probably cost more Kevin's whole outfit, expensive birthday watch included.

“If you don't mind,” Zac says, and Kevin busies himself at the tiny closet that holds a change of clothes for each of them. Should he give him the plaid shirt with the pearl snaps? Or the vintage t-shirt with the nice stripes?

“So Kevin said you're going to Greece?” Nick asks, sounding as casual as Nick can ever sound.

“Yeah,” Zac says, pulling the striped t-shirt that Kevin hands him over his head. His hair comes out perfectly tousled, Kevin notices. “Doing some chick flick over there. I don't know shit all about Greece, but Kev helped me find some books so I don't look like a _complete_ moron when I get there.”

 _Kev_ , thinks Kevin.

“I still have those downstairs,” Kevin says. “We can get them, if you want?”

“Sure.” Zac wads up his ruined t-shirt and stuffs it under his arm.

“I'll just... change and meet you downstairs, alright?” Kevin plucks at his own stained jacket.

Zac nods, and then waves to Nick and Joe. “Nice to meet the both of you,” he says before striding down the stairs.

Kevin hastily pulls off his jacket and shirt as soon as Zac leaves, putting on the plaid shirt and trying to control his breathing.

“Dude, you met a huge movie star and you didn't even know he was famous!” Joe laughs. He's upside down in a chair now, his hair flopping in a particularly irritating way.

“So? How was I supposed to know?” Kevin tries to flatten the right side of his hair, which is sticking up mutinously.

“Maybe because he's like, super fine?” Joe suggests, and Nick rolls his eyes.

“He's also super rich, so maybe you should go ring up those books. Or do you want to piss off a potential returning customer?”

Sometimes, Kevin thinks, if he didn't love Nick so much, he would want to punch him in the nose.

–

“I'm sorry I ruined your shirt,” Kevin mumbles miserably as he puts Zac's books into a paper sack. “You don't have to pay for these.”

“Oh, come on, it was just a shirt. I insist.” Zac presses some bills into Kevin's hand. Zac's fingers stay on Kevin's palm for just a second, but his heart starts to rattle so loud that Zac must be able to hear it.

“And I ruined your shirt, too,” Zac reminds him. “Can I at least buy you a replacement coffee? Or a replacement shirt? Something?”

After a moment, Kevin says, “Coffee would be okay, I think.” He flips the sign on the door to say Closed on their way out.

–

“So you really didn't know who I was?” Zac asks as they sit in the Starbucks down the street.

“Um. No?” Kevin says, wondering if that's the wrong answer. “I just thought you were a cute guy going to Greece?” And oh, God, he said the 'cute' part instead of thinking it. Maybe Zac didn't hear it? Maybe his hearing momentarily shorted out?

But Zac reaches across the table and rests his hand next to Kevin's, their pinkies overlapping. “Cute, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kevin more whispers than says. “I didn't... mean to say that part out loud, actually.”

Zac's hand moves up to Kevin's face, and he pulls on a curl behind Kevin's ear.

“I like that. Sometimes it's nice to just be the cute guy going to Greece instead of the big movie star.”

“It is?”

“I don't know if you know this, Kev, but being famous kind of sucks sometimes. Number one, I'm always on a diet and my agent gets a mile up my ass if he finds out I skipped a workout. Number two, people act funny around you.”

“Like my stupid brothers?” Kevin asks.

“Nah, actually, I liked them. A lot of the time when people know you're famous, they try and dance around it and act like there's nothing weird about it, and that everything is totally normal and cool, and then when you leave you realize they were taking pictures of you with their iPhone the whole time. If someone knows who I am, I at least like it when they're up front about how weird the fame thing is.”

“And you don't think I'm a jerk for _not_ knowing who you were?”

Zac laughs, his head tipping back. “No, Kev. Definitely not a jerk. Maybe a little stuttery, but... in a sweet way.”

“Good looking people don't usually talk to me, you know,” Kevin says. For some reason Zac doesn't seem to notice that he's way, way out of Kevin's league. It seems like it would be unfair not to remind him.

“Well, I don't talk to a lot of cute bookstore owners with such good taste in watches either. I guess this'll be new for both of us.”

–

That night, Kevin closes the store early because Zac insists on taking him out to a restaurant Kevin hasn't heard of. When Zac asks to see his apartment, Kevin makes a frantic phone call from the restaurant's men's room begging Nick to go over to their parents' for the night, and to take Joe with him.

The living room in Kevin's apartment is also filled with books. Some of them are extra inventory from the store, and some of them are the paperbacks he's been collecting since high school. Some are Nick's first editions of obtuse British tomes, and even Joe has a few old copies of Playboys jammed between the couch cushion. One of which Zac sits on as he pulls Kevin down next to him.

“Yours?” Zac asks, teasingly, pulling it out from under him. Kevin turns pink and pulls it from Zac's hands.

“Joe's, actually.” He tosses it onto the coffee table and it knocks over a mug half-filled with something. “Whoopsie daisy,” he mumbles.

Zac erupts in that wonderful laugh that makes Kevin's fingertips go warm. “You said 'whoopsie daisy.' You really just said that.”

Kevin makes some noises that aren't exactly words, and then Zac puts his hands on both sides of Kevin's face, pressing his lips against Kevin's, still smiling.

–

The next morning, much to his shock, Zac is still in Kevin's bed when he wakes up. Kevin was still halfway convinced the whole thing was a dream or the result of some sort of head injury, or if not, that Zac would have sneaked away in the night, realizing what a dweeb he had fallen into bed with.

He gets up to pull one of the curtains out of the way. It was raining, and he heard thunder sounding low in the distance, somehow peaceful. He should get dressed and head to the store. Nick will be waiting for him, and probably Joe, too, wanting to interrogate him about his use of the apartment.

“You going somewhere?” Zac murmurs from the bed.

Kevin thinks about finding his umbrella, and ringing up books, and dodging unwelcome questions.

“No, I... no,” Kevin decides. “But I'll be right back.” He goes to the kitchen and sets the coffee maker to go off in another hour. When he gets back, Zac is holding the blankets open for him, and Kevin fits himself in between the sheets and Zac's bare skin.

“So about Greece,” Zac says into the back of Kevin's neck. Kevin curls closer, and smiles.


End file.
